


When Day met the Night.

by sassybvtch



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Denial, Gay, Homophobia, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Other, Roommates, Slowpaced, first person POV, ill add more as i go - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 14:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7979815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassybvtch/pseuds/sassybvtch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan gets thrown out for being gay, and Brendon lets him stay at his place, not knowing why he was thrown out, or who he really is.</p>
<p>Who is Ryan Ross?</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Day met the Night.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to update again by next Friday <3
> 
> Leo

Lying behind a garbage dumpster is not fun.

Getting punched by your Father for being gay is not that fun either.

Wow, I'm really not having fun right now huh?

It's late, it's cold, I'm on my last cigarette and I'm outside a posh restaurant with a forming bruise and a slight cut on my cheekbone. Bonus, my car is at home and it's an hours drive back. I'm really reaching that high score for shittiest situations.

There's a little blood streaking down my face and I don't care, it's red and black and spells regret.

I must look helpless right now since a waiter taking out the trash is eyeing me with a sympathetic look, we look at each other for a second before he strolls back into the noisy kitchen. He looks like an asshole, truth be told, but a rather good looking asshole at that.

Ryan it's not time for your gay fantasies right now.

I pick up the coat on the ground and try to navigate to the nearest road to get a cab, the I realise, I have no where to return too. I lived with my family and after the homophobic speech they had just made before having a big show of punching me in the face, I doubt they'll be too welcoming of me.

Slumping back down, I stared at my feet and pondered about how much money I even had left in my bank account. Was it five thousand? Maybe, and hopefully, it was enough to get a few nights stay at a hotel to sort out this clusterfuck. I feel my hands reach for a cigarette when some one beckons to me.

I turn and for an awkwardly long 5 seconds I just kind of stare at the waiter from before, he's holding a haversack, ,must have just gotten off work. He coughs and then attempts to make conversation.

"I saw your ordeal just now, are you okay?"

I want to lie but instead I find my head shaking side to side, truth, I wasn't okay at all.

He doesn't say anything, and it's a hell of a lot of tension.

"If you don't mind, I'll be going to find a place to stay now." I make it sound like a joke, but I know very clearly, I sound so damn broken.

"I have an empty room." He spits out, rubbing his eyes.

Hand to face contact, either he's nervous or lying, possibly both, also he's a stranger, Ross, you're better than this, yeah?

"How's the rent?"

His face brightens, for some odd reason, who wants a strange homeless teenager from off the streets living in their household? Like I said, odd.

"It's free, I needed a roommate to cure me of my loneliness anyways."

 

\---

The room is spacious, has a bed, some charging cables and a wooden desk. Suddenly, I'm grateful for accidentally bringing my laptop along to the restaurant, I'll be needing a shitload of distractions.

"Brendon."

"It's Ryan actually."

"No," he giggles, it's cute, "As in, my name, it's Brendon."

I blush and he giggles more, skin around his eyes crinkle up and God, this strange man was so damn adorable.

"So you have a girlfriend?" I try to steer the attention from me.

"Sarah."

And fuck, I can't help but feel a little disappointed that he didn't swing that way, or both ways, I could work with that.

"But honestly, she's just a casual fuck at times." 

Why does he have to make that clear to me?

"It's fine, really, just don't do anything on places I'll be touching."

His laugh is fake, croaky. I avert my eyes to the ice cream on the dinner table, I don't understand why seeing him like that made me uncomfortable, but it did.

"But all humour aside, I really need to express how grateful I am for this room."

He nods.

"No really."

"Okay, how bout' some weight of your chest by eating ice cream and watching the titanic?"

I raise my eyebrows at him but fuck it, it could work out.

\---

"It keeps fucking buffering!" Brendon spits.

Maybe to someone shorter than Brendon he would look the slightest bit scary, but being a good bit taller than him, it was rather hilarious really.

The poor guy's drunk and is raging about how he just wants to see what happens to Jack.

I have to bite my tongue to hold back telling drunk Brendon that Jack dies, this house doesn't need two emotional wrecks on a rampage.

He's now in some sort of delusion, lying on the couch and touching non existent things in front of him. What have I gotten myself in to?

I lift him with great difficulty and settle him onto his bed, he's whining about trees and sunflowers, I deduce that that wasn't normal and watch him until I'm fairly certain he is asleep.

When I get up to leave, a hand pulls back me down next to them and I fall onto the bed.

His hands are wrapped around me and the bed is soft so I spend no time giving into my drowsiness. 

Before my eyes flutter shut, I hear him murmur.

"Please don't leave."

And then I feel salty teardrops pitter-patter onto my face.


End file.
